


Immortality

by bat_lover_1000



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: F/M, Happy Ending, Poem for Psyche, minor angst?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 11:29:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10990026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bat_lover_1000/pseuds/bat_lover_1000
Summary: A poem about Psyche, her struggles, and her triumph.





	Immortality

Psyche was revered,  
Praised as a goddess for her beauty.  
She never wanted it.  
Mortals and gods alike saw only her appearance,  
Not her kindness, her generosity, her curiosity.  
She was cursed in this way,  
Cursed in more ways than one.  
A jealous goddess swore a plague on her:  
The only love she would ever find would be with a monster.  
A strange curse indeed,  
As Love himself fell in love with her,  
For is love not a kind of monster?  
Cursed, she had to leave her family  
And so she went to a palace,  
Like something out of a dream.  
A castle for a god  
Or for a goddess.  
And when Love loved her,  
She fell in love in return.  
She never saw his face,  
For he was as beautiful as she.  
No, all she knew of him was his words  
His thoughts, dreams, deeds.  
Love gave Psyche his heart, not his face or his name.  
She was happy.  
But.  
The poisonous words of her sisters twisted through her head  
“You are to marry a monster.”  
“None but a monster shall love you.”  
“So what monster do you love?”  
The Sirens, the Cyclops, the Sphinxes  
Monsters that could act human but never look so  
Psyche feared he who she loved.  
Who did she love?  
Lighting a candle, she sealed her fate  
The flame that showed her Love’s lovely face  
Burned his arm as she stood spellbound  
And he ran.  
For just as she was,  
Love was loved for his appearance.  
Not his heart, never his heart  
But she did.  
She loved him.  
But he didn’t believe.  
Psyche loved Love and lost him.  
Cast out of her palace of dreams,  
She wandered alone.  
The cruel goddess who had cursed her,  
Was the only one who could help her.  
Aphrodite.  
Love’s mother.  
Three impossible tasks she was given,  
And three impossible tasks she completed.  
To sort a pile of seeds by nightfall:  
Psyche was kind to all, even the ants.  
And the ants repaid her, sorting the seeds  
To get water from the top of a waterfall:  
She struggled so to climb  
And an eagle admired her courage and helped her  
To fetch beauty from the Queen of Hell and put it into a box:  
Oh, but this last task.  
This last task.  
In undertaking it, she sealed her fate once more.  
For the box was cursed  
She completed the task,  
Retrieving the beauty.  
But again a curse fell upon her  
And again, in a twisted way,  
The curse would become a blessing.  
She fell into a sleep as bleak as death itself  
Love, seeing how she fought to return to him,  
Recanted his actions  
She truly did love Love.  
But the only way to wake her from this sleep  
Would be to turn her into a goddess.  
Immortality:  
A gift given to very few.  
But she loved Love so,  
And he loved her,  
And so a goddess she became.  
Not for beauty, no, not something so shallow.  
For her love, her courage, her heart.


End file.
